


Come here, kitty!

by window_to_the_soul



Series: kitty!trek [2]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/window_to_the_soul/pseuds/window_to_the_soul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kirk is a cat. Not a human-turned-cat, a were-cat or any other variation of the theme, but an honest-to-god kitty, but still sort of captains the <i>Enterprise</i>. Captain Spock will just have to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. Prologue: At Pike's office

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt to write a ST-fic, so please be kind. It is also pretty fluffy, I fear.  
> I don't know how regularly I will update this, because let's face it, university kills any sort of life you may have. If you find any grammatical or other mistakes, please let me know (I'm not a native speaker, so I hope you'll help me getting better). Could do with a beta, but have none.
> 
> Not owning Star Trek, by the way. Wait, you knew? Whatever.

** Prologue **

If Spock had any emotions he would admit to, _irritated_ would be a bit of an understatement right now.

"Admiral Pike, I was unaware that I had a problem with my crew. How come not one of the 200 crewmembers has come to me with this?" His voice was calm, but inside he was... miffed. Admiral Pike ruffled his greying hair with one hand, a gesture of uneasiness Spock thought atypical of the older man.

"The problem, Captain Spock, is exactly that. Your crew feel they can't come to you with their problems, they fear you might relieve them of their duties", Pike explained carefully. He leaned back in the leather chair and watched Spock's reaction closely. Therefore, the Captain of the starship _Enterprise_ made sure to keep his features expressionless.

"Illogical", Spock replied. Why should he end an assignment because of something as _inconsequential_ as an emotion, as long as it did not interfere with said assignment? The late afternoon lighting in Admiral Pike's chambers at Starfleet H.Q. softened the human's eyes.

"It's human, Captain. If someone is yelled at -or, in your case, coldly reprimanded- too often, humans tend to develop fear of whoever is... reprimanding them." Spock raised an eyebrow. 

"But surely they must understand that I do not wish to cause them emotional pain?" he queried. Of course, even though he is Vulcan and therefore above most of humanity's petty feelings, Spock knew that his crew required emotional support at times, especially when one of their away-missions had gone badly. So far, he had not experienced problems with this, as none of his crew has ever complained about his speeches or the way he talked to them. In fact, he had not thought that such a problem could arise, and it showed that he did not know as much about humans as he had thought. It was about as pleasant as learning that a yeoman could solve a calculation faster than he could. Not that such a thing would ever happen. Pike nodded slowly.

" _I_ know that, Captain. But your crew... they don't have much experience, and they're barely grown-ups. You must understand that sometimes they behave even more illogically than the rest of us." Spock tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I...see," he answered carefully, "and what would you suggest I do? I take it that the reason I have not been declared unfit as a starship captain has something to do with your judgment." Slowly, Admiral Pike rose to his feet and crossed his office to where a small, wicker basket with a cloth on it sat inconspicuously next to a specimen of the genus _monilophyta_.

"You're right as always, Captain," said Pike as he leaned down and lifted the red cloth from the basket. Underneath Spock could see two felines, a light blond she-cat with darker stripes and a smaller, darker tomcat who were currently asleep. "This here-" Pike pointed towards the she-cat, "is Winona, my kittypet." Spock lifted an eyebrow, unsure as of why he was told that.

"I am aware," is the only answer that seemed suitable. The Admiral straitened again, not before having petted "Winona" gently. The she-cat opened one grey eye, blinked and closed it again, purring softly.

"You know, of course, that animals often have a soothing effect on humans, don't you?"

"I am aware," Spock repeated, not sure he liked where the conversation was going.

"So, I think that you will seem more... approachable... if you had a pet." Incredulously, Spock tilted his head, having successfully " _I think_ " to "the officials do not know yet, but I might still tell them if you do not as I ask of you". 

"Surely you are not suggesting I take your feline," Spock stated. 

"Not Winona, no. But her kitten still needs a human -well, a Vulcan, in this case- who takes care of him. I thought you might not appreciate a dog, but a cat does not need as much attention while still being utterly adorable," Pike explained, leaning down again to pick up the small male feline. It opened its tiny muzzle to reveal a very pink tongue and small, pointy teeth, blinking at Pike with very blue eyes.

"Meow," it said and struggled a little in Pike's hold. Spock's eyebrow climbed up until it almost reached his hairline.

"And you think the fact that this small feline is aesthetically pleasing to a human's eye will help my crew to approach me when there are problems concerning their emotional state?" Spock could not believe that. He knew of course that humans were illogical to the point of ignorance, but this... Surely nobody in their right mind would make a connection between the physics of a cat and his own abilities as a captain? Pike surprised him by laughing quietly. The older man adjusted his hold on the kitten so that it could dig its claws into his shoulder and rest its head comfortably in the crook of Pike's neck.

"Yes, Captain, that's exactly what I think. You see, if they see you taking care of something smaller and weaker than yourself, it will probably help them to see you as... a person more than their captain, if you understand." Spock did not, however at this point he thought arguing futile.

"I...," he started, but the Admiral interrupted him gently, "Captain Spock, I know this seems like a pointless venture, but believe me, your crew _will_ feel better. I don't want to have to find a new captain for the _Enterprise_ , though I may still have to if the ' _Fleet_ hear of this... little misunderstanding." Spock inclined his head in acquiescence. Content, Admiral Pike took the few steps and put the tomcat in Spock's lap.

###

Jim yawned. Pike had petted his mother. Tired, he closed his eyes again. Dozed for a while. It was very comfy at Pike's, who was an important man. Jim did not know why, but his mum had said so when he had been frightened of the many, strange-smelling _things_ in his office. His mum had said Pike was a "Starfleet Official", whatever that meant. Jim only knew he gave them food and petted them. Whatever else Pike might have been doing was fine by him.

Today, another one of the not-humans was with Pike. He smelled funny, hot and warm and dusty, and he talked differently from Pike, too. But his soft, deep voice only made Jim sleepy. So he slept.

He woke up again when Winona's rough tongue combed the sand brown fur between his ears.

"Jimmy," she said, "do you see that man?" Jim flicked his left ear once, so his mother continued, "it's Spock. Pike thinks he needs you, Jimmy." Curious now, Jim opened one eye to glance at the Spock. He was wearing one of those removable furs humans needed because they didn't grow enough themselves, but it was black and flowing, not as colourful as Jim was used to. The fur on his head was cut short, but reminded Jim of a bowl he had once played with when turned over. He had pointed ears and dark eyes that glittered softly in the light of Pike's room. He wasn't human, that Jim could smell.

"Why does he need me, mommy?" he wanted to know. Winona curved her tail while she was listening to the conversation. Jim didn't understand most of the words the Spock was using.

"He is living on a thing called an _Enterprise_ , and there his... the other humans can't talk to him. They think he's unloving, I guess," she answered. "Pike thinks you can help him with this problem. Remember when he told us you were "cute"? This somehow makes humans talk to others." Jim's whiskers quivered inquiringly.

"So I'm s'pposed to make humans talk to him?" That he could do. He'd done it before, for Pike. It's easy, really. A little purring, a blink with his blue eyes and the humans're cooing all over him. Jim kind of liked that. A lot. Winona blinked approvingly.

"Can you do that?" Jim nodded and grinned. 

"Sure, mommy. They won't ever stop talkin' to him!" Then, Pike picked him up at the neck, and Jim kicked his legs in protest. He hated it when he could not touch the floor. Falling was bad. 

"Put me down!" he demanded but was ignored. The Spock was talking again, something about eyes and emotions that Jim didn't fully understand. It was as if he was speaking a different language, but that couldn't be the case. Jim understood some of the words after all. Maybe Spockish was just similar to English? Pike was holding him close now, so Jim grabbed his vest as hard as he could, with extracted claws. He really didn't want to fall. Well, the way Pike was holding him was comfy enough like this; Jim could put his head in the crook of his neck and inhale his soothing scent. Humans smelled strongly where the neck met their shoulders, and Pike smelled like rain and home and _safe_. Closing his eyes, Jim ignored the conversation again.

He was put in the Spock's lap. Curiously he blinked up at the Spock, eyeing his sharp features, the high cheekbones and the strange eyebrows. Equally curious, almost black eyes looked back at him. The Spock did not seem to know what to do with him, and his next words confirmed that.

"Admiral, are you aware that I am not familiar with the fostering of felines?" The words didn't make much sense to Jim, but he could understand the feeling behind them. Strange, that.

"There's books about that kind of thing, Captain Spock," Pike answered, a smile curving his lips. _Captain Spock?_ , Jim thought. So "Spock" wasn't his species, but a name? Spock raised an eyebrow.

"And are you aware that a spaceship is hardly the place for such a small, vulnerable animal?" Jim could basically smell the worry coming off of the captain in waves. Jim meowed softly at him, trying to soothe.

"In contrary, Spock. This little fellow here has proven to be curious and brave as well as mischievous. He'll do just fine"; Pike assured him. Jim decided he liked Spock. He smelled nice, and he was worrying about him. To prove Pike's words, Jim got up, and, balancing on his hind legs he stretched in order to look Spock directly in the eyes. Then, feeling especially brave today, he licked Spock's nose. The surprised sound the not-human made was so worth it! Purring happily, Jim turned around twice on his lap and then settled down, his sand-coloured tail curled around his body.

"If you say so, Admiral," Spock said softly. "I was told that, when one acquires a new pet, it is to be named in order to distinguish it from any other animal. Have you already performed such a ritual?" Jimwondered what "acquire" meant, but decided he really didn't care. However, Pike's answer made him shudder.

"This is James Tiberius Kirk, son of Winona Kirk and George Kirk," Pike said. Oh yeah, he'd forgotten about that. Pike had insisted on a very strange, very long name for Jim because despite Pike's love of cats, he wasn't one of the few who understood enough to guess at a cat's true name. So he named Jim "James T. Kirk". If he could, Jim would have sighed, but he had learned that it was futile anyway.

A hand touched his head tentatively.

"Hello, James Kirk," said Spock in his deep, soothing voice, his fingers weaving through the soft fur between Jim's ears. _Worry/curiosity/numbersthatmadenosensetoJim/softnicewarm_ flooded Jim's head, feelings like wind bending blades of grass stumbled inside his head, whirling around and never settling, always moving, moving, moving. Confused, Jim stilled and listened carefully. He understood suddenly that it were not _his_ feelings but Spock's in _Jim's_ mind. After a while, the emotions calmed down and started to make sense, as if someone had taken them and put marks on them. It was like what his mommy did when she made sure that the other cats knew that Pike's room was _theirs_ , only in Jim's head. In fact, Jim noted, the emotions were sorted and tidied. Strange, but hey, who was he to judge? If Spock wanted his thoughts marked and sorted, so be it. An interesting expression crossed Spock's face when he looked down at Jim. It was... well, it wasn't there at _all_ , but somehow Jim saw it anyway. It was in the way he lifted an eyebrow (humans did that, sometimes, too, it meant _confusion_ ) and his eyes glittered and his head was tilted a tiny little bit. Also, his smell changed. It was...

"Fascinating," said Spock. Jim twitched his ear in agreement. He would keep him.


	2. To boldly go (where no cat has gone before)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first steps of kitty!Kirk aboard his new, shiny starship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for the week! And lots of love for those who left me comments *gives love*
> 
> Here comes the fluff!

** To boldly go (where no cat has gone before) **

Before returning to his ship, Captain Spock has read 45,670 books, 3,001 sites on the internet and has listened to 24,5033 audio files on taking care of felines. He felt as prepared as he probably ever would, so right after exiting the shuttle taking him to the _Enterprise_ he made his way to Sickbay. It was necessary that his Chief Medical Officer Doctor Leonard McCoy gave James Tiberius Kirk a full medical scan to insure he did not bring any viruses on board. Despite his careful affection for the feline (that he would never, ever admit to) Captain Spock was responsible for his crew and would therefore not endanger any of them.

Doctor McCoy was still preparing for take-off, checking equipment and muttering under his breath, so he did not immediately realize the Captain had entered Sickbay holding a basket. Spock cleared his throat.

"Doctor McCoy, I have a request." The Doctor jumped slightly before turning around.

"Don't ever do that again!" he complained, "you're gonna give me a heart attack, Spock!" The Captain raised an eyebrow.

"Surely you are not as skittish as that or you would not have passed any of the liability tests of Starfleet," he argued calmly. McCoy just shook his head.

"Whatever. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I was given a ...pet... to take care of, but in order to keep it its health must be ensured. I would ask you to check it for injuries, viruses or illnesses that might prove hazardous for the crew of this starship."

"You got a pet?" McCoy repeated, eyes wide.

"I believe that is what I just said, Doctor McCoy," Spock told him. 

" _You_ got a _pet_?!" Spock inhaled deeply.

"Yes, Doctor McCoy, I "got a pet", as you so eloquently put it. Admiral Pike said it was a measure taken in order to make me crew more comfortable around myself, even though I fail to see how a feline could accomplish this." 

"A measure taken to... Well, I'll be damned!" McCoy suddenly exclaimed. Spock looked down at the basket and saw that James Tiberius Kirk had lifted the blanket a little and was now staring at the doctor with wide, blue eyes.

"Meow?" James Tiberius Kirk asked.

"Is everything alright, Doctor?" nurse Christine Chapel hurried over to where two of her commanding officers were standing. Then she too noticed the kitten.

"Aaaw, hello there!" she cooed softly at James Tiberius Kirk, who tilted his head at the delicate hand extended towards him. He sniffed it once, then licked the nurse's fingers. To say Spock was shocked would be an understatement: The nurse, whom he had come to respect because she never behaved inappropriately, was giggling like a girl half her age. "It's adorable!" she informed Spock. "What's its name?"

"This is James Tiberius Kirk," Spock informed her a little reluctantly. The kitten had not licked _his_ hand when they had been introduced and it left a strange but unwelcome feeling in his stomach. He shoved it rigorously to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on illogical feelings.

" _James Tiberius Kirk_?" Doctor McCoy repeated incredulously. "James _Tiberius_ Kirk? Who gave him that name?"

"It is a name of terran origin, is it not?" Spock wanted to know.

"Well, yeah, but it's huge, Captain. You can't call this tiny little kitten "James Tiberius Kirk" all the time!" Spock raised an eyebrow.

"And why not?"

"'Cause it's huge! You've got to call him something different." For a while, McCoy looked intently at the small creature that had wriggled its way out of the blanket and was now lying, belly-up, on top of the red blanket. "What about Jim?" he asked finally.

###

Contentedly, Jim looked up at the man Spock was calling "Doctor McCoy". Seemed nice enough, so he didn't protest when he was lifted up and put on a thing that looked like a table, except it had something softer than wood on top of it. Might have been a bed, but Jim had never been on one so hard.

"Well, Jimmy, let's see if you're all healthy, okay?" Doctor McCoy asked. Jim twitched his right ear. He was a little nervous now, because McCoy was holding a box that wouldn't stop making obnoxious noises, but Spock was still standing close by and surveying the doctor's every move, so Jim guessed it was okay. McCoy moved the box-thingy all over his body, from head to tail, and told the nice woman things that made absolutely no sense. He was probably just a bit dense. Finally, McCoy turned and told Spock he was "all good".

"Thank you for your effort, Doctor McCoy," Spock answered and made to pick Jim up. Jim didn't want to be picked up. He rolled on his back, presenting the white fur of his belly to Spock. The captain just lifted an eyebrow.

"Please desist," he said. _Whatever_ , Jim thought and wriggled on the table/bed-thingy. McCoy started laughing heartily. He was a nice human, Jim decided. Had guessed his name, too. That was rare among humans, 'cause they were usually quite dense.

"He wants a belly-rub," McCoy informed Spock and moved to do exactly that. Closing his eyes, Jim started purring. McCoy was _brilliant_ at giving belly-rubs, it seemed. Soooo good... Jim's purr deepened. McCoy's hands were big and rough, combing his fur against and with the grain alternately, at times fast, then slowly and then rubbing circles. Jim was officially in paradise. His purr grew louder.

"You look like a dog with a bone, Doctor," Jim heard the woman joke. McCoy answered something he didn't pay attention to. _A dog with a bone, huh?_ Jim thought. 

"I really don't think a feline resembles an ossicle, nurse," Spock said coldly. Jim opened his eyes. _Whoa_ , he thought, _no surprise they're not talking to him! Spock sounds mean... ___

__"Oh shut it, hobgoblin," McCoy interrupted, taking his hands away from Jim's belly. With a protesting meow, Jim rolled around and looked up at the two men. Tried to understand, why Spock looked like a tomcat ready to fight for his territory. Unsuccessfully. "You know what Chapel meant!" So, if "bone" didn't refer to Jim, then who...? _Well,_ Jim thought, _if it's not me, then it must be McCoy._ Even though the human did not look like a bone, either. _ _

__"Please note that terran idioms rarely make sense to a Vulcan," Spock said, clipped. Jim remembered his mother’s instruction to "make people talk to Spock". Decided on a plan. With a pitiful meow he looked up at the Vulcan. Whatever a Vulcan was. Spock leant down to him._ _

__"Are you injured, James Tiberius Kirk?" Jim sighed inwardly and hoped he'd stop referring to him by that ridiculously long name. He'd work on that later. Slowly, making a show of his long tail and his slender built Jim sauntered towards Spock. Stopped right in front of him, at the edge of the table/bed. Stretched his head towards Spock's hand, hoping he'd understand. He did, and contentedly, Kirk rubbed his head against Spock's palm. Relished the look of awe in the other male's eyes, the barely there widening and the visible relaxing of his posture. Felt so good that Jim started to purr again._ _

__"Wonder what the little one sees in you," McCoy-looking-like-a-bone muttered. "Anyway, he's all healthy, you can... do with him whatever it is you were planning to do." Spock's fingers slid over Jim's ears. Jim was in heaven. His chest rumbled with his purr. Good, so good._ _

__Ever so gently, Spock picked Jim up and put him back into the basket. Jim will not admit to the little whimper he made when Spock stopped petting him._ _

###

When Spock reached his quarters, he carefully put the basket with James Tiberius Kirk down and started to prepare the cat basket he had bought while on shore-leave. He set it next to the statue of a gargoyle he has been rewarded with after winning an important battle against the Klingons. Spock has of yet to understand why the Klingons would give a present to the person who killed a thousand of their own, but has deemed it impolite to throw the hideous beast away. So it sits against the wall, and now it had a cat basket next to it in which Spock placed his feline. His fingers were still tingling from where James Tiberius Kirk has rubbed his head against them, the contentment of the kitten making him feel warm. It had been rather odd.

Spock removed his uniform, exchanging it for the wider, more comfortable Vulcan robe used in meditation. He needed it now, and assumed the feline would also appreciate the silence and peace to explore Spock's quarters. He had half an hour before he was required on the bridge.

Spock lit a candle and some incense and sat down with practiced elegance, focusing inwards. The memories of his day floated by as he sank deeper into meditation, he closed his eyes when he no longer needed the focus of the fire. Pike's office blurred in his mind's eye and became indistinct. McCoy's grumpy face reminded him of his duties. 

Suddenly, there was a weight on his legs. Spock absolutely did not jump to his feet yelping. No, he rose faster than normal, but in no way was his heart rate elevated and his eyes did not look for danger. James Tiberius Kirk, on the other hand, _did_ yelp when thrown to the floor unceremoniously. Indignant, the kitten stared up at Spock, then turned around and, tail and head held high, padded back to the cat basket. When he came to stand next to the gargoyle, he hissed at it. To Spock's silent amusement, James Tiberius Kirk then turned twice in the cat basket and lay down with his back to the statue.

The Vulcan allowed himself a chuckle (because fortunately nobody would ever hear it in his quarters) and sat down again. There was still a little time for further meditation. But as soon as he closed his eyes, there was the weight on his legs again. Unlike the last time, however, Spock simply opened one eye to look at the kitten coiled up in his lap. It was truly a sight to behold:

The vibrant blue eyes closed, small paws digging slightly into Spock's thigh and tail around his small body, James Tiberius Kirk was resting his head on Spock's left knee. The feline was, if he were to use a terran expression, cute as a button. The warmth of the cat's body seeped into his clothes, and a faint vibration ran through it. James Tiberius Kirk was fast asleep in Spock's lap, and he was purring. The Vulcan was not sure why he allowed the contact when every other living being would have been at the receiving end of his anger for interrupting his meditation. His crew had learned the hard way. But James Kirk... well, somehow the feline was different.

When the thirty minutes were over and Spock made his way to the bridge, he had to admit that none of his previous sessions had ever left him feeling this relaxed. Further experimentation was necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The auther is not responsible for any side-effects a fluff-overdose might have. But she's gleefully happy about them.


	3. Spock's room (is made of awesome)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty!Kirk explores Spock's quarters. That's it, basically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know "colorectal cancer" was a cancer in the bowel? Well, I do, now. Not that I needed to know that (or how it works. Ewwww). So please excuse Jim being adorable. I need that now.

**Spock's room (is made of awesome)**

Jim woke up just after Spock left his quarters the next morning. Or not-morning, it was hard to tell when in space. Jim didn't care either way, when he woke up, it was morning, and that was that. Ignoring the statue (it was _creepy_ ) he made to explore his new room. The office he and his mother had shared with Pike (his mother had been really generous, too, for allowing Pike in) had been light and filled with plants. This one, Jim's new home, was... darker. No, wrong, it was just emptier. It lacked the small things cluttering the floor that Jim knew from his old place.

Curiously, Jim made a tour around the room. It held a desk (tidy, with a thing called computer on it that humans needed because their brains were apparently rather weak when it came to remembering), a chess board (all the tiny pieces! They'd make awesome toys!), a divider (maybe Jim could sharpen his claws on it?) and, behind a wall, a bed. Of sorts. Experimentally, Jim jumped on it, only to realize that it wasn't really all that comfy. The red hangings behind it looked interesting, but weren't fluffy, either. He lay down on the bed, tail around his paws and slept for a while. Continued his tour after said nap and found a gray box-like thingy against the wall. It had lots of shiny buttons on it, right above a black cavity. Jim tilted his head. Now _that_ looked interesting... With one measured jump he was sitting in the small, cave-like cavity and stared at the wall. It didn't seem to be doing anything at all on its own. Well, Jim could always use it as a second sleeping place, seeing as it was humming faintly and comfortably warm. Not that Jim's new quarters weren't nice and warm all on their own. Jim wouldn't need most of his fur for keeping him warm in here... Pike had never turned the heating up that high. Maybe Spocks had even less fur than humans and therefore needed hotter rooms?

Jim moved to the edge of the cave and looked up at the shiny buttons. There were so many of them, and the light seemed to jump from one to another... Jim's paws were itching to chase it. So he did, and hit the first button with his left paw. Suddenly, the hum in the cavity changed and then something was _attacking Jim_. It had fallen on his back and was pressing him down. Jim's hackle rose and he yowled menacingly, jumping to the floor. His heart was beating rapidly. Whatever had hit him came down next to him with a clattering sound. The cat stared at it, bemused. It was a plate. Jim stared a bit longer. Where had that plate come from? Its contents were all over the floor now. Carefully, Jim stepped closer to what looked like brown mush and smelled like... he wrinkled his nose. It smelled like _Vegetables_. Ewwww... With a hefty shove he pushed it away. Not caring that the _vegetable mush_ was now all over the floor, Jim flexed his muscles and landed safely inside the cave again. It was humming like before. So, where had the mush come from? Nose on the warm material, the kitten searched the whole thing thoroughly. No sign of anything hidden here.

Then he remembered the button. He had pushed it with his paw -it was almost like one of the games Pike had played with his mother. When one pushed the button, something happened. In this case, vegetable mush. Maybe he could make something different happen when he pushed another button?  
Ten minutes later and Jim was purring happily inside a pile of clothing the buttons had given him, lapping the rest of what had been the most delicious piece of meat in, like, forever, from a now empty plate. The machine had also produced socks, boots, a whole lot of fruits and vegetables and some heavy, iron stuff, and still the tomcat had no idea where it was all coming from. Curious, that. Jim's new room was a proper mess now, too. Jim felt accomplished -at least it looked as if _someone_ was living in here now! Closing his eyes, Jim went to sleep.

###

The Alpha shift was over, and Spock was... content. Nothing had happened that he should be concerned about, the area of space they were crossing relatively empty with only a 1.238% of inhabited planets total. He had had a pleasant enough lunch with his Communications Officer Nyota Uhura, to whom he would show his pet as soon as she was done with completing her reports for today. Ensign Chekov was showing all signs of becoming an acceptable Lieutenant one day. Spock would make sure he got a commendation.

However, when he entered his room, the first thing Captain Spock of the starship _Enterprise_ did was stopping dead in his tracks in order to stare at his formerly tidy and clean quarters.

The floor was almost completely covered with pieces of plates, various edible substances, tools and clothing. The chess board was empty, the chessmen on the table (and the queen was missing entirely), his bed had paw prints on them (Spock really, _really_ did not wish to know what had made the feline's paws a dark brown color). 

Spock was gaping, slack-jawed. It did not take long to regain his composure, but the slip in control was unmistakable. He would have to meditate on that. Right after he had cleaned this... _mess_.

"James Tiberius Kirk!" he called, giving his voice a disapproving tone. A heap of cloth began to move, revealing the feline hidden beneath it. James Tiberius Kirk stretched languorously, blinking up at Spock with sleepy blue eyes. 

"Meow," James said and went over to Spock to rub his cheeks on his shin. The feline purred appreciatively.

"You will not make a mess of my room," Spock told him sternly. He was ignored. With an exhale that was definitely not a sigh he picked the feline up and put it in its basket. Then he commed Nyota to tell her he would be late for dinner. 

"That's okay, Captain," she said, her voice sounding light, "I know you have a lot of work to do."

"It seems to just have doubled," Spock agreed, shooting James a stern look when the kitten made to leave his basket. James tilted his head but remained seated. "The present I was given by Admiral Pike has been playing with the replicator, though I am unsure as to how it figured it out." He heard his CO laugh softly.

"Oh Spock, don't tell me you left the cat you got all on its own during alpha shift?"

"I was told it did not need much looking after. At the time, it seemed perfectly reasonable," Spock answered. Bewildered, he noticed Nyota's laugh grow louder.

"Oh Captain! A cat doesn't need looking after, that's true, but what would _you_ do if you were locked in your quarters for eight hours straight? He must've been so bored!" Spock lifted an eyebrow even though Nyota could not see it. Surely a feline was able to entertain itself for eight hours?

"I... see," he conceded finally. "What would you suggest I do?" It was, after all, only logical to assume that Nyota had more knowledge concerning pets. She had once told him her parents owned a dog.

"Give him something to play with for tomorrow," she advised. "I'll leave you to your cleaning, then. Uhura out." With these words she terminated the call, and Spock made to pick up the strewn clothes and the food. Directly in front of the pile of clothing James Tiberius Kirk had been sleeping in he found a clean plate that smelled faintly of steak. Wrinkling his nose, he put it in the recycler. 

"You will not cause such an incident again," he berated the cat as soon as he was done. James tilted his head and blinked. "Is that understood?"

###

Jim hated it when Spock was angry. He blinked repeatedly, hoping to calm his new companion, but to no avail. It didn't help that he couldn't understand _why_ he was told off, either. What had he done wrong? Sure, Pike sighed a little, too, after he'd played in his room, but this? Spock was talking to him in an eerily calm yet stern voice that made shivers run down Jim's spine. He hated, hated, _hated_ it. Mewling softly he reached out to touch his soft paw to Spock's knee. The man was sitting on his haunches, so they were easily to reach. Jim patted them once, then meowed again. Hoped that Spock would understand the apology. And he did, his eyes softened and he rubbed Jim's head once before getting up.

"Do not do this again," Spock said, but it lacked its former harshness. "I will not have my quarters unclean." _Ahh_ , Jim thought, _he doesn't like the decorating I've been doing._ Flipping his tail, Jim nodded. He had learned from his mother that humans did it to show agreement. Then he curled up in his basket and closed his eyes, sleeping.

When he awoke, Spock was sitting in that weird, cross-legged position on a mat again, a candle burning in front of him. Jim had never seen anyone so quiet, so unmoving except his mother when she was hunting. But Spock couldn't be hunting anything, because his eyes were closed. Furthermore, Jim had not smelled any mice in here. But maybe Spock was hunting other things? The position he was in certainly didn't look comfortable. That wouldn't do, so Jim moved over to him, slowly. Sat down in front of Spock to look up at his face.

Relaxed it was, and the candlelight bathed it in a warm, orange glow. Jim purred lowly. Whatever it was Spock was doing, it seemed to make him genuinely happy. There was even this weird thing humans did with their muzzles when they were happy. Just a tiny lifting of his lips, but it was there. Jim took his time to admire Spock's features, the sharp cheekbones, the soft looking fur on his head, his pointed ears. He looked serene, Jim decided. He wanted that, too. So he slowly so as to not startle Spock climbed onto his lap. His new companion twitched in surprise but otherwise did not react, so Jim thought it was fine. He lay down, curled his tail around his legs and let himself drift.

Spock's thoughts washed through his mind, _a red desert, a mountain in the distance, hot and dry air _Jim liked those images and decided to think of nice places of his own: _his mother's fur all around him, the sun warming his back on a winter's day, Pike's comfy bed with Pike's hand around his back-_ Suddenly, Spock leapt to his feet, staring down at Jim with wide eyes. Indignantly, the tomcat turned around. Wasn't his fault if Spock didn't like Pike's bed, was it? He trudged back to his basket. Stupid Spock, always interrupting his happy thoughts. He turned his back to him and closed his eyes. Stupid Spock.__


	4. This is my bed (get out of here, Jim!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhm. I really, really hated the fourth chapter? So I rewrote it. Uhm. Sorry?

**This is my bed (get out of here, Jim!)**

Spock had gone to bed. Not that that was unusual in any way -Jim knew that humans -and probably Spocks, too- needed sleep during the night. It wasn't night, though. It was all very confusing. Jim felt like it should be afternoon, only it wasn't, because the _Enterprise_ (what a lovely name for his new home) was moving through night, and nothing but darkness surrounded it. The tomcat stretched relaxed muscles and took his time to clean his fur. Soft tongue strokes calmed him down. Was almost as if his mother was there. He missed Winona a little. He also missed Pike. The human should be here. Jim shouldn't have to be alone, alone but for Spock. And he had to learn so much more about this male in order to help him with his pack. Spock was some sort of leader to the pack of the _Enterprise_ -mum had called him a Captain. Jim blinked in the dim light. The Spock was sleeping like he did the not-hunting before: stiff and uncomfortable-looking. Jim tilted his head. _I am uncomfortable and lonely_ , he thought and his right ear twitched in concentration, _Spock is uncomfortable and asleep. I am uncomfortable. Spock is uncomfortable..._ The man had his front paws on his chest like Pike sometimes had, but his head didn't rest on its side and Spock's eyes didn't flutter when he was dreaming. No, Jim decided, that couldn't be healthy for his new companion. The sand brown cat made its way towards Spock's bed and looked up to the mattress and the thin cover. They looked soft. 

So Jim leaped up and felt the soft material give under his small weight. The mattress was of a strange color, a mix between black and grey and red, and Jim didn’t like it. A bed -or any sleeping place- should be built for safety in order to not attract predators. _Maybe Spocks don't have any?_ the cat wondered while he made his way to the sleeping form. He peered at Spock. So close his features were even more prominent. Jim also noticed that his cheeks were tinged green, which was odd. Well, he was a Spock, after all. Spock's eyes did not move under his closed lids. Was he not dreaming? At least he didn't have nightmares -or so it seemed. Jim walked around the sleeping male once, twice, trying to decide where he himself could sleep comfortably. But Spock took up most of the room on the bed. Bugger. 

His chest looked awfully soft, though.

###

There was a weight on his chest. Spock awoke immediately but did not move. With closed eyes he tried to assess what it was. The object on his chest was roughly the size of a small plate -30cm in diameter- and warm, softly vibrating. A bomb? Had anybody gotten into his room without his knowledge? The captain felt his heartbeat accelerate and throb harshly against his ribs before he was fully awake. Spock bolted upright and scanned the room with frantic haste.

An indignant cry told him in no uncertain terms that James T. Kirk was not a happy kitten right now. The small feline had fallen from his chest and was now hissing in his lap. James T. Kirk had fallen asleep on his chest. Spock took a calming breath, schooling his features back to the Vulcan impassiveness he had mastered at preschool. He gave his pet a stern glance.

"You will remove yourself from my bed at once," he told the tomcat. And was soundly ignored. James Tiberius Kirk simply turned around in his lap, turned around once and lay down on his thighs. "James Tiberius Kirk!" Spock repeated, giving his voice a disapproving tone. The feline opened one eye and blinked sleepily up at him. It looked like Spock would have to get up himself and remove the offending mammal.

Seizing the kitten's soft fur at its neck he got up and put James Kirk back to his basket. The cat mewed in complaint and only stopped when Spock started petting it behind its sensitive ears. _NicewarmmommySpock_. Slowly, the captain removed his hand, and the emotions stopped. _Curious_ , he thought. _It seems I have been sensing the feline's emotions..._ It might actually help him caring for the animal now under his protection. He would investigate it in the morning.

Spock went back to bed and closed his eyes. He may not need as much sleep as a human or a cat, but without sleep he would not make it through Alpha Shift tomorrow. It took all of ten minutes -Spock counted- for James Tiberius Kirk to crawl into his bed again. Spock opened one eye to look down at the tuft of soft brown fur on his Starfleet-regulation sleepwear and found the kitten looking back at him. Wide, blue eyes were lowered to somewhere near his chin when the cat noticed his gaze. Somewhere, Spock has read that it was a sign of deference among earth cats. _So he can be "polite"_ , Spock thought, _but he chooses odd times to do so._ Of course he could not have the kitten sleep in his bed, so he picked James T. Kirk up again and put him back to his basket.

_Indignationsoftwarm _gone__ floated through Spock's sensitive fingertips. Maybe he ought to wear gloves when picking up his pet.

Spock returned to his bed and slipped under the covers.

James Tiberius Kirk went to lie on his chest.

Spock put him back.

After the third time he did so he got a new feeling from James Tiberius Kirk: _Losslonelymommy_. Spock looked down at the kitten that, even though he knew had not changed in size, looked suddenly so much smaller in the big, fur-covered basket. Its ears were lowered and big, sad eyes held Spock's gaze. The feline mewed pityingly and with a heavy exhalation Spock cradled the kitten in his arms and took it with him to his bed again. Carefully the Vulcan sat down and put James T. Kirk on his lap again.

"You miss your mother, too, don't you?", he asked, not caring about correct speech patterns and all of that, just letting himself look at the cat. Thinking of Vulcan. How he had been too late, just one fraction of a heartbeat too late to save her. To save the woman that had once meant his life. He blinked the tears away -he could not let himself have emotions now of all times. Not in the middle of the ship night and certainly not provoked by a cat. Which was curled up on his thighs and purred lowly in his throat. It was a deep, rich sound that seemed to ease the tension in his hands -when had he balled hem to fists? - and his legs -since when were they shaking? 

Carefully, Spock swung his legs up to the bed so as not to disturb the purring ball of fur and pulled his covers up again. He felt at ease now, better at least than when he had gone to sleep nearly three hours ago. Closing his eyes, the last thing the captain felt was a light weight on his chest and something closely resembling smugness radiating from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... well, no, actually, I'm not sorry at all. I like it better this way.


	5. Far away from home (is a little kitty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty!Kirk's first shift. Spock tried everything to prevent it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, did you like the new fourth chapter better, too? Let me know?

**Far away from home (is a little kitty)**

Spock got up at an ungodly hour in the morning, Jim had just learned. Was it really necessary to be up and _awake_ this early? Surely there were things Spock would rather do than putting his day-fur on -like, you know, sleeping. But no, apparently Spocks got up early and left their kitten alone in bed. Jim, never one to complain too much, found himself a new spot under the cover, hid his muzzle and eyes under his tail and slept for a while longer.

When he next opened his eyes, Spock was gone. That was, in and on itself, not very distressing, Spock had left before, too. But. There was _absolutely nothing_ for Jim to do. It was annoying, really. Sure, there was this small labyrinth-thingy that required moving boards in order to get to a treat, but that had been booo-ring. Jim had it solved in all of three minutes. Did Spock really think that'd keep him busy for long? Now, that was just a silly notion. Jim meant to play with the cave-that-made-things, but Spock had made it _very_ clear that it was not tolerated behavior.

Jim started pacing around the room and even looked at the creepy statue. Its eyes were blinking now and then. Odd, that, but maybe Spocks were like these birds that collected blinking stuff? Jim was staring at it until he had the interval all figured out: Two-hundred and thirty six heartbeats, but he had to count twice to be sure. The blinking is so very short and fast that no human could see it (what with them also thinking television was fun -ha!) and once, Jim blinked and missed it, too. But it is definitely there, every two-hundred and sixtieth heartbeat. Jim stared at it for a while, then grew bored and moved on. What to do?

The chance came when a female entered Jim's new room. He thought it terribly impolite for all of five seconds, then he saw all the humans move outside of his new quarters. The female he could leave looking at Spock's things in Jim's room, but all those other people? Jim jumped up from his place in front of the statue and ran across the room. When the female -she had nice, red day-fur and her own fur was blond- started screaming hysterically, Jim was already down the corridor, part of Spock's covers still draped over him.

And what a magnificent place Spock had taken him to! There were _lots_ of sparkly things, though most of them were white. On second thoughts, that might have been due to the blanket over his head, so he shook free and started looking around properly. The _Enterprise_ was a bit boring in coloring, but other than that? There were so many humans, and most of them would stop to stare at his soft fur and his pretty blue eyes. Jim had never felt more appreciated than when humans couldn't avoid their eyes. He _sauntered_ down the hallways and stopped every so often to curl his tail invitingly.

###

His day had started irritatingly and was getting worse by the second. Spock was sitting in his captain's chair and listening to ten humans and Keenser who all kept on insisting having seen a ghost on the _Enterprise_. Spock did not allow any sign of his irritation to show, but his replies had grown curt over the course of the last 34.5 seconds. And to think having a pet would have helped with dealing with his daily ... tasks. It certainly had not helped with the Orion ship they had to blow up at 1300, or the war with the Klingons Chekov almost started during his lunchtime break.

"Could you _please_ explain to me why you chose to see me over problems of visual acuity instead of Doctor McCoy, who is the Chief Medical Officer on this vessel?" he asked pinching his nose. The yeoman was shaking and pale but answered, "I'm sorry, Captain Spock, but I was just on my way to the bridge to get these looked at by T'Nash" -he cast a glance at Spock's Science Officer- "and there was this... this _thing_! Yeoman Rand says she saw it coming out of your room, Captain!" Spock blinked once, twice and felt realization dawning on him. He had not told his crew about James Tiberius Kirk with the exception of Doctor McCoy, and now the feline was strolling around the corridors of the _Enterprise_. It was as simple as that.

Spock jumped to his feet and barked for Sulu to take the con, then raced -no, _swiftly walked_ from the bridge to the elevator and took it down to the Captain's quarters. He did not want to think what the cat who had figured out how to make the replicator produce bacon could do to his ship. Or the crew. He did not particularly fancy finding the ... _animal_ stuck somewhere in a Jeffrey's tube or in someone else's quarters. The shock these humans would get by being disturbed n their nightly rituals by a kitten was... unthinkable. _Interesting_ , Spock thought while scaring a yeoman to death by hurrying - _moving fast_ \- them, _I seem to feel a curious amount of protectiveness towards my crew._ He reasoned it could be explained; he was responsible for their well-being after all. Yes, it was entirely logical not to want his kitten to shake their fragile states of mind. Therefore, as a captain it was his duty to remove the disruptive factor from the equation.

Spock was thoroughly irritated after he had had a look at the security footage and found where his cat had gone to. The bridge. Somehow the feline had managed to use an elevator and was now sitting on his chair. Spock allowed himself to glare at the video screen, after all, nobody could see him. Sulu and Chekov were... cooing... (Spock made a face he would _never_ admit to) over James Tiberius Kirk, and T'Nash was almost smiling! A Vulcan woman smiling... Spock had to stop this insanity right now.

He arrived at the bridge and found James Tiberius Kirk sitting on the captain's chair and lazily curling his tail around his legs, occasionally twitching his ears when some console was beeping.

"James Tiberius Kirk!" he called. Everybody was staring at him.

###

"James Tiberius Kirk!" Spock called. Jim turned his head and happily hopped down the great big chair he had found. Really, he had a magnificent _Enterprise_. It had chairs that were more comfortable than Pike's, it had nice people in it and it had his own personal Spock. Though the latter looked rather stressed out. Purring would be necessary to remedy that. Jim's tail was high up when he made his way towards Spock, the rest of the interesting people instantly forgotten. He had a duty to perform.

Jim rubbed his cheeks on Spock's shins, curled his tail around his legs and purred with closed eyes. Truth be told, the strange moving thing he'd gotten caught in has been frightening, and he calmed himself as much as his Spock with the purring. The other male radiated anger, fear and... something else that Pike sometimes got when Winona took too close an interest to other humans. Jim knew it was a _very bad thing_. Spock picked him up and held his head close to Spock's face. The male's dark eyes had gotten darker. Anger. Jim's ears moved back on his head. He hadn't meant to make Spock angry! Meowing sadly, Jim tried to convey how sorry he was -for what, he didn't quite know, though he guessed it had something to do with him leaving his room to explore his "ship".

Spock did his weird exhale/sigh and moved his arm to support Jim's weight. Purring more loudly now, the kitten rubbed his head at his Spock's shoulder. He was wearing a nice golden shirt that was comfy and soft and made him think of Winona's fur.

"Hey, who is your lovely kitty?" Spock turned slowly with Jim in his arms, who had looked up upon hearing somebody adress Spock. And with "Captain" no less. 

"I was given this feline to take care of by Admiral Pike," Spock said curtly. "I will remove it from the bridge immediately. This is no space for animals." Jim started whining at that. After all, his new quarters were boring! Why would Spock take him back? He wouldn't just... abandon him, would he? Not like his mother had... Jim hissed in irritation. What was he thinking! His mother had given him a special task, and he _did not need her. At all._

"Why would you take him back, Captain? He seems perfectly at ease right where he is," said a human in a golden shirt with dark fur and almond-shaped eyes. Jim was inclined to agree with him, but he felt Spock's heavy gaze on him. _Irritationworrynotproperbehaviour_. Jim mewed again and wondered Spock could have been worried about. And what was all this nonsense about "proper behavior"? Jim found it perfectly acceptable to cuddle with Spock. He had allowed the Spock to spend the night in his quarters, too, so the least thing the other male could do was let him sit on the comfy chair. Jim wouldn't bother anybody with that, would he? It had been empty when he had come here! Spock lifted an eyebrow. 

"Helmsman Sulu, I assure you James Tiberius Kirk is not staying on the bridge. It is not appropriate; furthermore I know that yeoman Rand has a severe allergy. I wish not to cause her discomfort." The other man -Sulu- flinched visibly. Jim looked up at Spock's face. Its lines were hard and not at all relaxed. He understood now what Winona had been talking about: Sulu backed off immediately; with raised-up shoulders he tried to appear smaller than before. Had he had movable ears, they would have been flat on his head now. The poor human was frightened of Spock! That was just wrong. 

Spock was nice, after all. Jim thought. Somewhere deep down he could probably not hurt anybody. Though he had a nasty glare... Maybe Sulu was just naturally jumpy? 

_A female burst into the room. It was the nice lady who had opened the door for Jim earlier._

"I'm so... sorry... Captain Spock... I meant to check on... and then there was this kitten in your room and... Oh. I see you found it, then," she finished lamely. She smelled funnily, and looked at Spock like... like Winona had at that idiot of a tomcat George that came by Pike's office once. She held herself upright and blinked too often, pushing her bosom at the Captain. Jim glanced up to see if it was mating season for humans, but Spock seemed oblivious. 

"Yes, indeed I have _found_ him. May I ask what you were doing in my quarters?" Spock's voice was blank and so, so cold. Jim mewed: If Spock wouldn't loosen up, he'd scare the female off completely. 

"I... I... of course, I... there were these... documents I left... yesterday... and I... sorry, yeah..." She wouldn't finish one sentence. 

"If you are having trouble speaking, you may want to consult Doctor McCoy. It will also help with your remembrance problem, I'm sure. This is the fifth time this week you have come by my quarters to retrieve documents you have forgotten there, and I assured you every time that you had not, indeed, _left them there._ " 

Jim closed his eyes when the woman left the bridge. This was going to be so. Much. Work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to the people who left me kudos and comments. But I could always do with more^^ *waves at readers*
> 
> I also think this may grow a plot. If you squint, you can probably find it.


	6. Klingons (vs kitten)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim defends his territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a TARDIS-mug and all of the TOS-movies! In French. I think somebody wants to tell me something. Not sure what, though ;p
> 
> Also, I have no idea how to figure out stardates, so it's just a random number.

**Klingons (vs kitten)!**

It was two weeks, three days and 54.30 minutes that Jams Tiberius Kirk has been living with him on the _Enterprise_. Spock could not say it had not been a challenge, at first, but they made it work. And it had, in fact, helped to improve his reputation with the crew, even though he was still unsure as of why. The only thing he himself was aware of doing was resigning himself to take the feline to the bridge with him every shift. The cat would cause mayhem -broken table, broken chess board, a broken replicator (that James somehow got to produce a truckload of ham), torn bedclothes and a broken lira had proven that one just fine. So Spock did the logical thing and took it with him.

His observations proved Pike's theory -the feline made him seem more approachable. Fascinating as it was, it was also illogical. His crew was still not talking about their problems with him -he did not expect them to, either- but at least they did not flinch anytime he looked at them. And sometimes, Ensign Chekov or Doctor McCoy would even greet him in the hallways instead of saluting or standing to attention. The only person on his ship who had not changed was in fact Science Officer T'Nash. Spock was glad for it, because he would have to reprimand the only other Vulcan aboard if she suddenly started to behave like a human.

Spock was sitting in his chair on the bridge, working on reports and supervising the working of his crew, and James Tiberius Kirk (whom the crew had started to call "Jim" or, even worse, "Jimmy") was asleep. The kitten had almost doubled its size in the past weeks and was close to its estimated adult height. His behavior, however, had not changed, despite Spock's best efforts. The feline was still stubborn and would not give an inch when he wanted something. Spock had learned that the hard way. It had involved his Communications Officer not talking for him for two days, a seriously angered Chief Engineer and T'Nash very politely pointing out the error in his logic to realize that he better do anything his cat wanted, and if it was a new replicator that produced ham in cat-sized portions, well, anything was better than being told off by a mad Scotsman trying to recalibrate the main engines of his starship. So he and James had settled in a more or less comfortable routine: James got what he wanted, and Spock could work. 

"Keptin!" Ensign Chekov's voice interrupted Spock's thoughts. He focused his attention on the young human.

"What is it, Ensign?" His voice must have woken James, because the cat's ears twitched and he cracked open one eye to blink up at him, got up and stretched his back. 

"I think we're being followed, Keptin Spock!" The human sounded excited. 

"Helmsman Sulu?" Spock queried, and the other man at the navigation console met his gaze.

"I think he's right," he confirmed. "I only just noticed about a minute ago, and at first I thought it was just a malfunction of the main engines" -he omitted the "again", though Spock could hear it just fine- "but we checked it and I think it could be a Bird of Prey. Possibly Klingon."

On his lap, James' eyes lit up as he heard the word "Bird of Prey". Spock sincerely hoped the cat wouldn't start to chase Klingons. Since James had come to live with him, Spock found himself afflicted with illogical emotions like "hope" and sometimes even "dread". It would be fascinating if it weren't somewhat... unfortunate. But the tomcat was just looking at the viewscreen, hackles raised and fangs bared. A second later, CO Uhura got an incoming call, and a Klingon officer smiled disdainfully down at them.

"Finally noticed me, did you?" he asked in broken standard, just as the first hit of a photon torpedo hit the outer hull of the _Enterprise_.

"Shields up to 100%," Spock ordered, gripping the armrest of his chair in order to not fall. The _Enterprise_ shook with the impact that had James thrown from his lap. With a glance, he confirmed that feline's safety before barking out an order to counter the attack. The Klingon captain on the viewscreen was cackling at them.

"So this is the Federation's best? Defeated by one Klingon ship? I wonder why we ever feared you!"

"They can't be the only ship in this sector -that would be mad!" CO Uhura exclaimed, one hand grabbing her console, the other pointing at something on T'Nash's.

"I agree," Spock replied, not showing his discomfort. His crew was frightened, he could feel it all around them despite his mental shields in place. He had to keep it together. This was not their first enemy encounter, but never before had they been this surprised. "Scan the area."

###

Jim was hiding under Spock's chair. He had felt something was out of place the minute he and his Vulcan (had a nice ring to it, that word. It was what Spock called himself) had stepped on the bridge. And now this. There was an angry, brown blurb on the window that laughed at them while the ground was shaking. Jim was terrified. He could smell the fear coming off the humans in waves, and Spock was uneasy, as well. This brown person with the wrinkles on his forehead -Chekov had called him Klingon, which was an odd name, but hey, he wouldn't judge- was somehow attacking them. And Jim's _Enterprise_ , after Jim had spent so many hours training her and Spock. Had taken a while to make them both realize that he _got what he wanted_ , but they had gotten there in the end. And now, whenever he chased the funny lights, the _Enterprise_ would give him ham, and Spock carried him around.

But the floor was shaking, and Jim didn't understand why until Spock called, "What are they doing on our side of the Neutral Zone?" This Klingon had trespassed and tried to steal their territory. Jim would not allow it. Surely the _Enterprise_ had a ship's equivalent of claws and teeth? Another tremor shook the bridge, and its occupants were falling on the floor. There was shouting, and yelling, and cries of fear, and Jim didn't move, pressed flat to the ground in hopes of being overlooked. His heart thundered in his chest like mad, and his fur was raised, his tail swishing. Fear was not something he had known in his life so far, at least not an all-encompassing one like that. Things went up in smoke and light, heat waves hitting him and upsetting his balance so that he was now rolling over the ground. His head hit something hard, and he just lay there for a couple of seconds.

Then the lights went off, and the screaming started. Spock shouted something about a time limit just as Jim picked himself back up. His right hind leg pulsed with pain, and stars clouded his vision for a second, but he made it on all fours. Spock was on the ground, clutching an arm to his side and green liquid dripped from a gash on his forehead. Jim crawled over to him, sensing his distress and pain. Spock's uniform was torn, an angry and green bruise adorned his shoulder. Jim cowered down next to him and started to purr. It was the only thing he could remember how to do. Purring always helped, calmed him. There, all better. And Spock's other hand petting the fur between his ears.

A beep was heard, and Spock tried to get up. 

"The torpedoes," he muttered, but sank back with a pained sound. Jim followed his gaze, trained as it was on a shiny button on the burning, hot hunch of metal in the middle of the bridge where Sulu und Chekov should be sitting. They were on the floor, unmoving. Jim blinked at Spock, who tried to gain control over his limbs again, it seemed. Couldn't move. Jim started purring louder. "The torpedoes," Spock said again. Jim tilted his head. What was a torpedo? But the button seemed important. Spock wanted to reach it badly, badly enough to ignore his own pain. So Jim carefully made his way to the metal block with the button on it. Still the _Enterprise_ was shaking and lurching and making pained sounds, and twice Jim fell and had to get up again, but finally he made it to the button.

###

Spock awoke in sickbay and to the muttering of Doctor McCoy. His recalling of the events on the bridge was somewhat unclear, with parts of the memory missing due to intense pain. One thing though was clear: His cat had saved them all by launching the experimental torpedoes that Chief Engineer Scott had installed on the last shore leave on stardate 4566. Somehow, James Tiberius Kirk had figured out what Spock wanted when he had lain on the ground and could only croak out syllables. And had then proceeded to push the button that launched the locked-on torpedoes at a Klingon Bird of Prey and blown it to smithereens.

"Finally awake, hobgoblin? Scared the hell outta us!" _Ah_ , Spock thought, _so everybody else is fine_. Doctor McCoy insisted on calling him "hobgoblin" or, when he was feeling generous, "Captain Hobgoblin", but only if nothing was amiss. Spock nodded.

"It appears I am in health again. Thank you for doing your job," he replied politely. Doctor McCoy would get unfriendly if not thanked properly. Even if Spock did not understand why he needed to be rewarded for doing his work correctly.

"Yeah, well, you better get out of my sickbay. That cat of yours is making the staff twitchy. Crew is alright, Sulu had a nasty bruise on the back of his head, Chekov a broken arm and T'Nash suffered mild mental trauma, but they're back to normal." Running a tricorder along his length, Doctor McCoy distractedly pointed at Spock's feet. Indeed there was James Tiberius Kirk, curled up and sleeping. A sand brown ball of fur, purring in his chest. "Wouldn't stop purring. Read somewhere that cats do that to ease pain. Jimmy must like you." Hearing his name, the feline opened an eye, saw that Spock was awake and climbed up on his chest.

"Mirr," he said and started licking Spock's cheek. The raspy tongue swept over his soft skin, a feeling not altogether unpleasant if unsanitary. 

"Had a broken hind leg and a mild concussion," McCoy informed him. "You're both good to go now, Captain." With a nod, Spock picked James up and gingerly got up. He was pain free if a little sore, but that had been expected. 

"You did well," he whispered in James' ear, holding the cat close. He had been afraid when he thought he'd lost the feline, when he had seen James thrown across the room by a phaser blast and his limp form against the communications console. But the little animal had gotten up and saved them all. Sulu had had the Klingon ship locked onto but didn't manage to fire the torpedoes before he had been hit. 

James started purring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just found a beta. Lucky me^^ So, this'll hopefully improve over the next couple weeks. Lemme know what you think, okay?


	7. Mud (means bathing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim was always a fast learner...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim doesn't much like Keenser... Poor Keenser. I think he might like cats.

**Mud (means bathing)**

Jim likes Spock. He hadn't meant for that to happen, but, well, now that he was trained and followed Jim's orders (most of the time, when he wasn't being deliberately stupid) the kitten found it hard not to. It had taken time to recover from the injuries of Klingon attacking their _Enterprise_ , and never once had Spock left him alone. Jim could now follow him about his territory without fear of intervention, and he was only rarely taken back to his quarters. The sand colored kitten found these times to be mostly irritating, something to pout about for a day or two, and then he just fell back into their comfortable routine because he forgot what he had been so angry about in the first place. There were, after all, more important things to do.

Figuring out where Spock went during these times, for example. Maybe it was when he was not with Jim that he scared his pack half to death. It needed to be investigated. So, after the third instance in about as many not-weeks, Jim decided he'd about had it. Spock was leaving again, and he was having none of it. The young tom waited exactly three seconds after Spock had closed the doors, then he started screaming. Loudly, and very annoyingly. It was a particular high-pitched sound that humans associated with dying babies or "Cardassian caterwauling" whatever that was, and it was _very_ effective.

The door opened, and out Jim ran. The woman with her red day-fur started calling for him, insisted he come back so she could lock the door again, but the kitten ignored her. Instead, he rushed as fast as his paws would carry him down the white corridor and down one of the pipes that ran through the whole territory like tunnels. Only they did not just go forward, but up and down as well at times, and they were real broad. Jim liked those a lot. Though sometimes there was a green something with a face like a big lizard in there. It was wearing red day-fur, but it was scary, and Jim always turned bolted when he smelled its strange, reptilian odor. Today, there was nothing.

Following Spock's scent Jim came to a part of the _Enterprise_ he only rarely visited. It was loud, cracks and clanking noises everywhere, and steam hissed and sometimes people were yelling things about "weapon stats". Whatever it was, the people sounded anxious when they yelled about it. Unfortunately, this area seemed to be where Spock was heading. Maybe the beings living there hurt him? It would explain why he sometimes came back injured. Jim blinked down into a room that was mostly round. On one side, there was a sort of platform with small circles on it, and to its right, a metal hunk. A human Jim had not met before stood there and poked it. The Vulcan came in through the door, followed by Bones (the man who was like a dog with a bone and had poked Jim), Chekov, Sulu and another young human in red day-fur and brown head-fur. They went to stand on the circles on the platform. Jim's tail twitched anxiously. What was going on? Tension was in the air, Spock basically radiated it, his shoulders were squared and his eyes hard. It was the same look he had that one time Jim had chewed on his lira. It meant someone was in trouble. Maybe the door? Spock was certainly staring at it hard enough...

"Energize," Spock said, the air... flickered, and then they were gone! Spock and Bones and Chekov and Sulu and the other one were just... not there anymore! Jim called out for them, but nobody answered. That is, nobody he cared about. The man who had poked the metal thing looked up at him, though. Pointed and called for him, too. Jim's hackles were raised, his ears pressed flat against his head. What had just happened? Where did Spock go?

"Miaaaan! Mwaaah!" _Please come back_ , Jim thought desperately. There was no place they could have gone to, the air had been weird, and... He pulled his tail around his legs. Where did Spock go? Where was he? What had just happened?

"Now, now, c'mere, Captain!" the man called. The pack of the _Enterprise_ had taken to calling him "Captain" when Spock wasn't near. Jim was glad they understood he was their leader, and Spock only his interpreter. They needed to know things like that, so they would obey him. Jim tilted his head. Maybe... maybe the man could get Spock back? Carefully he climbed down and out of the tunnel. His feet touched the cold metal soundlessly, and the man lifted his hand to pat Jim's head. 

"Mirrr," Jim ordered, and stalked over to the circles on the platform. "Mwao." The man blinked.

"Sorry, Captain. Can't let you go down on Ocellus I. The actual Captain wouldn't want that." Well, at least the man wasn't completely stupid. But what was an Ocellus? Jim didn't want the Ocellus, he wanted Spock back. Now.

"Miiiaw!" Again, a headshake. Jim swished his tail over the floor. Maybe the human didn't understand after all. "Mew!" 

###

Ocellus I was not the most pleasant planet Spock has ever visited. It did not even rank among the top ten. The only resource it had in abundance was mud. Fortunately for them, their mud was rich in oils that could be used in maintenance of starships, so he had come down to acquire 45 kilograms. At first, the governor had seemed willing to help them, going so far as to make a special offer for them. But when Spock had returned to pay for the mud, he had been informed it was not enough and subsequently brought to prison. Where he now has been sitting next to Lts. Chekov and Sulu and opposite a constantly cursing and complaining CMO McCoy.

"Would you kindly desist talking, Doctor McCoy," Spock said for the third time in as many minutes. "It is not helpful, and seeing as I am trying to think of a feasible escape plan, I would ask you to at least let me do so in silence." 

"Oh, so we're being herded in here by gunpoint -guns, Spock! Not phasers!- and you want me to just swallow it?" Spock inhaled deeply, reaching for his calmness of mind. At times, Doctor McCoy was trying his patience.

"Yes, that is exactly what I want you to do." Doctor McCoy snorted.

"Yeah, not gonna happen. I thought you hobgoblins could multitask?" 

"Mirr!" Four heads turned towards the sound. Spock closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. How exactly had his kitten come planetside? But here it was, sandy fur dark brown with mud, green eyes blinking curiously in the darkness. James eyed the small cell that barely had room for the four grown man. 

"Jimmy!" McCoy called out. "What're you doing down here in this mud hole?" The kitten tilted his head and twitched with his left ear. Then he made his way over to the bars and squeezed through.

"Meow!" Spock blinked mildly surprised. Maybe the kitten could be helpful...? James T. Kirk stretched up and put his muddy paws on Spock's uniform trousers. The Vulcan felt tiny claws nick his skin, then James pulled himself upwards, turned around three times on his lap and lay down. McCoy, Sulu and Chekov stared at the purring kitten. So did their captain. The kitten was asleep.

"Captain of the Starship _Enterprise_?" a voice called in the darkness. 

"Yes?" Spock answered almost immediately. A torchlight came dancing towards them, and when it was in front of the cell, it revealed a bare-chested man with considerable muscle on his upper arms who was wearing thin linen trousers.

"The Governor is now -what is that?" He pointed at James T. Kirk.

"It is a kitten, a Terran feline," Spock replied and blinked as the guard's eyes widened.

"A-A feline?" Spock nodded and noticed the look of astonishment on the man's face.

"Is there something wrong?" 

"No-no!" Hastily shaking his head, the man extended one hand towards the kitten.

"If you hurt one hair on his neck, I swear to God, I'll-!" threatened Doctor McCoy.

"I would never hurt a feline! They are the purest of creatures! I must discuss this with the governor!" And he disappeared.

Approximately ten minutes later, the away-team had returned to their ship, with the mud for the repairs for free and a deal for all other terran vessels. And all of this because James did not want to be alone. Spock smiled as he carried the small cat back to his quarters, covered in mud and purring happily. Now they both needed a bath.

###

Jim woke up when Spock put him down. The shock of the sudden air change and the disappearance of the _Enterprise_ had been a bit much. For an eternity he had called for them, and only stopped because there had been a weak scent on the brown and squishy, muddy ground he recognized: Spock. And when he had found him, and Sulu, and Chekov, and Bones, Jim had been so relieved and exhausted that he had fallen asleep on Spock's lap. And now... he as back on the _Enterprise_. At some point he was going to figure out how that worked, but for now he was just glad to feel the faint vibrations and listen to the humming of his territory. He was still purring.

Suddenly, Spock picked him up. The Vulcan was brown, too, covered in mud just like Jim. He prodded Spock's nose with his paw, and some of the mud came off. That was fun! Jim poked Spock's nose again, but when he tried a fourth time, Spock held him further from him so that his hind legs dangled in the air. Unpleasant, that. Jim hissed.

It got even worse. Spock plunged him in water. There was water everywhere. Jim started yelling, cursing Spock and trying to get away. He was going to drown! Spock rubbed his back and belly, but Jim was having none of it: He scratched and hissed and fidgeted and bit and squirmed. It was wet, and it was disgusting. Jim was scared. There was water, he would be drowning, and why did Spock hold him down? Why would Spock do that? Was he angry because Jim had followed him? His heart pounded against his ribcage. Jim wanted away. He wanted... Then Spock put something all over his fur. It was white, and it burned in his eyes. Jim screwed them shut, confused and feeling incredibly betrayed. Why was this happening? First, Spock was gone, now there was white stuff everywhere that smelled rather strongly! Then there was water again. Water everywhere, this time blended with white streaks of the evil stuff-that-burned and it smelled awful and Jim tried to free himself -to no avail.

Finally, Spock lifted him out of the water. He was shivering from cold, fear and adrenaline. If they weren't so wet, Jim's hackles would have risen when Spock held a longish device in front of his face. Then, one of Spock's big hands was on his neck, and the thing started blowing in Jim's face. His fur dried, but the thing was yelling and hissing at him, and it was definitely trying to fight him off, why wouldn't Spock let him go? He obviously wasn't strong enough to defeat the hissing monster! 

Then, it stopped, and Jim collapsed in his cat basket. _Never again_ , he vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those of you who ever had to make your cat take a bath. Or your dog. I know your pain^^

**Author's Note:**

> Well, anyhow, if you liked this, let me know! Thanks for reading!


End file.
